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Post 3: Spam City

This is the second spam-themed installment on Sweet Mother. Mine has a little bit of a twist. Instead of talking about the spam that comes to my blog or the eerie search terms people might google and end up on Sweet Mother, these are responses to actual junk emails I have received.

No matter what I do, no matter how many times I hit ‘unsubscribe’ these lists have my internet number. They crank email me day in and day out. This is just my small way of crank emailing back.

Dear Kohl’s $500 Gift Card,

You are a terrorist. Honestly, you text me often. You email me. You tell me I have a $500 Kohl’s Gift Card in my name and yet, I can see the land mine dressed up as shiny object. I pick you up or click your link rather and – KABOOOM! My mac computer or iphone explodes and turns into a useless carrier pigeon. I’m not buying your trickery. You don’t have a gift card for me. I fear if I brought your email into an actual Kohl’s they’d laugh me out the door by saying, “Ha! Would you transfer all of your bank account to a Nigerian man if he asked you too also?” I don’t think I would, but sometimes your talk of free money tempts me. It’s a compulsion like tweeting out pictures of your wiener.

Now, stop it, fake-Kohl’s.

Sweet MO.

This is how they get you with maniacal happiness and bright colors…

Dear Save Tax,

From your email I gather that you want to help me with my taxes. However, the currency pictured in your add is not my own. I can’t figure out if it’s the Euro or the Yen. This should tell you somewhat about my financial retardation. Sadly, I can’t give you my business because I’m not sure if I have to go to China to do so…

Yours in yen-love,

Sweet MO.

What the feck is this? A dubloon?

Dear PetCareRX,

My wifesy is a veterinarian. You are preaching to the wrong choir. I can get my meds for free, if I say they are for my dog…even though sometimes they are for me.

Sweet MO.

Dear South Beach Diet,

I tried you once. You didn’t work because I enjoy food. My punishment for that failure is obviously to be on your mailing list. I’m not going to buy anything else from you. This means we’re both in hell.

Sweet MO.

Dear Avon,

Paula Abdul is not a good way to get me to buy anything…unless it’s percocet.

Thank you.

Sweet MO.

No!

Dear Law Crossing,

Your emailed selections of various attorney positions and antitrust and trade regulation openings is endlessly interesting to me. Sadly, I am not a lawyer. The lack of a Juris Doctorate is the result of a bad decision made long ago. It involved a microphone. I’ve been trying to write my way out of it ever since.

Illegally yours,

Sweet MO.

Dear American Airlines,

Thank you for the email offering me “more legroom and comfort.” But, honestly, I would’ve preferred if you had just honored my frequent flyer miles back when I had them. Instead, you cut the program and told me all of that “collecting” was for naught.
I think you’re naught! Naught! Naught! Naught, AA!

That is all.

Sweet MO.

Dear rentalcars.com,

Thank you for letting me know that I can get a car for $16/ a day in Tel Aviv. My only question is, will you pull out the shrapnel if I misunderstand the GPS and end up driving right through the center of a Hamas headquarters?

A girl has to plan against these things.

Sweet Mo.

Make a right at the Wailing Wall and a left at the Hebrew Hammer…

We begin and end with terrorism today. Shopping terrorism (the American way) and bang-bang terrorism (the jihad way). I suppose if I have to choose between the two, I’ll take the fake-Kohl’s gift card. When they arrest me for trying to spend the fake $500 will one of you come and bail me out? Or do I need to hold on to this junk mail from a California bail bondsman?

***

Sweet Mother is updated daily-ish. If you’d like to join in the mayhem, simply click the follow button at the top of the blog.

I see you’re numbering upwards. Is it easier to keep track of, or were you worried that you would start counting downward, then mid-way through, Wifesy would make you laugh, sending milk out your nose, and when you saw post 57, think you were due to post number 58?

foster, you are always a joy. actually, i have no idea why i did it that way and now that you say it, a countdown to 1 would’ve been more dramatic, but, alas, i can barely keep my pants on these days. wait…that’s not right. or is it? loool. xo, sm

Thank you for teaching me something new about myself. Before I tell you what it is, I must admit the I am meant to be on permanent hiatus from WordPress because I said mean things about my husband’s ex and she threatened to sue. (Hence me being Undercover.) So being that I am meant to be grounded, WP is a secret that I keep from my husband.

Tonight I read your post while in bed next to my husband. (Playing with fire, I am. It’s like having sex downstairs while your mom is upstairs making meatloaf… I am guessing.)

I learned I can laugh hard enough to cry without making a noise or wetting myself. I blamed the stomach contractions on flatulence.

Reblogged this on Well, This Is What I Think and commented:
This is a very amusing take on the topic of Spam which as regular readers will know I covered off a couple of weeks ago. Sweet Mother is a very funny and well written blog generally, and I recommend it.